were right about the Hollywood touch. Looks like something off
the back lot of a movie studio," Julian decided as he parked the rented car
in the wide, circular drive.
The lines of the mansion were vaguely classical but the designer had
obviously been unable to resist throwing in some originality. The overall
effect was of a storybook mansion, composed of elements drawn from
several different architectural periods.
"I'll bet the original adobe structure was more attractive. I wonder how
Carlota likes having this thing sitting on the ruins of her home." Anne
opened her door as Julian switched off the ignition. "It doesn't look as
though the housekeeper is here. I don't see any lights." She rummaged
through her purse, searching for the key she had collected from Lucy.
Julian stood patiently with the luggage as Anne sounded the huge brass
door knocker. When there was no answer, she used the key to let them into
the wide hall. There she fumbled briefly before finding the light switch.
She and Julian stood in silence, staring at the surroundings.
"I think," Julian finally commented as he surveyed the intricate oak
parquet floor, the huge, multitiered crystal chandelier and the carved
staircase at the end of the hall, "that I like my cabin better."
"Personally I'm reserving judgment until I see the bedrooms." Anne
headed determinedly for the staircase. "Here, I'll take my own suitcase,"
she added quickly as Julian made to follow her.
He must not have appreciated the expression of concern in her eyes
because he ignored her outthrust hand. "I'll manage," he growled. "I might
not be up to carrying you up these stairs, but I can still handle a couple of
suitcases!"
Anne held her tongue, unwilling to say more and risk another dose of
his irritation. He must be quite tired by now, she told herself. Better not to
provoke him. Actually, all things considered, it was always better not to
provoke Julian. A dangerous pastime.
The housekeeper might not have been in evidence but it was obvious
she had recently been on the scene. The half dozen bedrooms were all
immaculate and fully prepared. It was clear immediately where the
designer had drawn his inspiration.
"Good heavens! Each bedroom looks like a scene from a film," Anne
gasped as she opened doors.
"Yeah. A love scene," Julian agreed laconically as he stopped to peer
into what looked as if it could have been a stage set of Cleopatra's
bedroom. The one across the hall was straight out of a thirties musical.
Black-and-white stairs led up to a black-and-white canopied bed. "Which
one do you want?"
"This one, I think," Anne declared with abrupt decision as she opened
the last door on the right. "Definitely this one."
Julian came to stand behind her. "Well, I'll be damned. I never would
have pictured you as the harem type."
"Ah, but this isn't a harem scene. This is the sheikh's tent from one of
those Rudolph Valentino films," Anne announced as she walked cautiously
into the flamboyant room. "Isn't it incredible?"
Hollywood's vision of exotic, Middle Eastern splendor reigned supreme
in the gaudy room. The ceilings and walls were draped with an elaborately
printed fabric. The bed was a huge round affair so covered with tasseled
pillows that it was difficult to tell where it began and where it ended.
Gossamer veils cascaded down over the bed from a wrought-iron hook in
the ceiling. Underfoot an intricately designed rug completed the opulent
effect.
"Are you sure this is the room you want?" Julian appeared doubtful. He
began prowling around, opening the mirrored closet doors.
"Are you kidding? I'll probably never have another chance to sleep in
something like this as long as I live. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,"
Anne enthused. She picked up her red leather bag and set it on a
nightstand. "Which room are you going to use?" she asked as she began
pulling out her toothbrush and a robe.
A moment later when he still hadn't answered she
the back lot of a movie studio," Julian decided as he parked the rented car
in the wide, circular drive.
The lines of the mansion were vaguely classical but the designer had
obviously been unable to resist throwing in some originality. The overall
effect was of a storybook mansion, composed of elements drawn from
several different architectural periods.
"I'll bet the original adobe structure was more attractive. I wonder how
Carlota likes having this thing sitting on the ruins of her home." Anne
opened her door as Julian switched off the ignition. "It doesn't look as
though the housekeeper is here. I don't see any lights." She rummaged
through her purse, searching for the key she had collected from Lucy.
Julian stood patiently with the luggage as Anne sounded the huge brass
door knocker. When there was no answer, she used the key to let them into
the wide hall. There she fumbled briefly before finding the light switch.
She and Julian stood in silence, staring at the surroundings.
"I think," Julian finally commented as he surveyed the intricate oak
parquet floor, the huge, multitiered crystal chandelier and the carved
staircase at the end of the hall, "that I like my cabin better."
"Personally I'm reserving judgment until I see the bedrooms." Anne
headed determinedly for the staircase. "Here, I'll take my own suitcase,"
she added quickly as Julian made to follow her.
He must not have appreciated the expression of concern in her eyes
because he ignored her outthrust hand. "I'll manage," he growled. "I might
not be up to carrying you up these stairs, but I can still handle a couple of
suitcases!"
Anne held her tongue, unwilling to say more and risk another dose of
his irritation. He must be quite tired by now, she told herself. Better not to
provoke him. Actually, all things considered, it was always better not to
provoke Julian. A dangerous pastime.
The housekeeper might not have been in evidence but it was obvious
she had recently been on the scene. The half dozen bedrooms were all
immaculate and fully prepared. It was clear immediately where the
designer had drawn his inspiration.
"Good heavens! Each bedroom looks like a scene from a film," Anne
gasped as she opened doors.
"Yeah. A love scene," Julian agreed laconically as he stopped to peer
into what looked as if it could have been a stage set of Cleopatra's
bedroom. The one across the hall was straight out of a thirties musical.
Black-and-white stairs led up to a black-and-white canopied bed. "Which
one do you want?"
"This one, I think," Anne declared with abrupt decision as she opened
the last door on the right. "Definitely this one."
Julian came to stand behind her. "Well, I'll be damned. I never would
have pictured you as the harem type."
"Ah, but this isn't a harem scene. This is the sheikh's tent from one of
those Rudolph Valentino films," Anne announced as she walked cautiously
into the flamboyant room. "Isn't it incredible?"
Hollywood's vision of exotic, Middle Eastern splendor reigned supreme
in the gaudy room. The ceilings and walls were draped with an elaborately
printed fabric. The bed was a huge round affair so covered with tasseled
pillows that it was difficult to tell where it began and where it ended.
Gossamer veils cascaded down over the bed from a wrought-iron hook in
the ceiling. Underfoot an intricately designed rug completed the opulent
effect.
"Are you sure this is the room you want?" Julian appeared doubtful. He
began prowling around, opening the mirrored closet doors.
"Are you kidding? I'll probably never have another chance to sleep in
something like this as long as I live. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,"
Anne enthused. She picked up her red leather bag and set it on a
nightstand. "Which room are you going to use?" she asked as she began
pulling out her toothbrush and a robe.
A moment later when he still hadn't answered she
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